Encryptions
by N'kala
Summary: A simple consulting case turns into a matter of life and death for Charlie and Don.
1. Prologue

Title: Encryptions Author: N'kala99 Disclaimer: Not mine!  
Summary: A simple consulting case turns into a matter of life and death for Charlie and Don.  
Author's Notes: I have no idea where this came from. I just sat down at my computer one night and started typing, and this sort of happened. Really, it was a pretty interesting experience. I hope you enjoy it, particularly the end of chapter 6. ?

Encryptions Prologue

Charlie scribbled another note in his notebook, then set the notebook aside and began to flip through one of the textbooks surrounding him. He was seated on the floor in front of the coffee table in his living room; one of his favorite places to stretch out and do some work. He was working on a large project for his university, collaborating with several math and science professors. He hadn't said much on what it was about, but whatever it was, it was evidently important enough to take up all of his time on his summer vacation. Charlie only ate when his father reminded him, and was often found asleep on top of his notes and books. Alan had tried to coax Charlie into taking breaks, but Charlie had insisted that he was fine. 

Alan now stood in the doorway to the living room, watching his youngest child working fervently on his project. He had tried every conventional means in his power to get Charlie to take a break, but nothing had worked. His next move was dirty- he knew it, but wasn't ashamed of it. His concern for his son overrode his conscience.

"Hey, buddy, haven't seen you in a couple of weeks. How're you doing?"

Charlie looked up in surprise as his big brother entered the living room and sat down on the couch beside him. "Don! Hi! What are you doing here?"

Don peered at the notes Charlie had been making. "Dad called. He said you've been working on a project for the last couple weeks, and that you haven't been taking care of yourself."

Charlie scowled. He glanced at the door where he had felt his father's eyes only moments before, but Alan was nowhere to be seen. "You didn't have to come down here. I'm fine. I'm just working on something for school."

"Oh yeah?" Don asked. "What is it?"

Charlie sighed. He knew that, with Don here, he wouldn't be getting too much else done. His brother was the only one who could distract him from his work. Everyone else, he could tune out. Charlie had a sneaking suspicion that his father not only knew that, but used it to his advantage.

"It's a consulting project, really, with a couple other schools and NASA," Charlie finally answered. "NASA recruited a bunch of us to help confirm something they discovered in space. They wanted to be absolutely sure before making an announcement."

"NASA?" Don echoed, incredulous. "First the NSA, then the CDC, and now NASA? Do they have you on some sort of list?"

Charlie shrugged, pulling another notebook closer. "Math is a pretty big deal."

"I guess so," Don commented. "Can you tell me what it is they discovered?"

Charlie looked at him as if to gauge whether or not Don was serious. Finally, he hunted around for something. Grabbing a textbook and flipping through several pages, he handed it to Don.

Don looked at the book. "Radio signals, EM emissions . . . I know what this all is, but what does it mean?"

"NASA discovered a signal overlapping one of their satellites," Charlie explained. "At first they thought it was just some background noise, the general clutter of what the universe usually puts out. But the intervals of some of the pulses were too distinct to have been random occurrences. They isolated the signal and checked and double-checked their findings, but now they want to back up their findings through outside sources. A contact of mine in Houston gave my name to the director, who contacted me a couple weeks ago, along with a couple professors I work with. They just got clearance to help me out last week. We're running on a really tight schedule, but we've managed to narrow down our findings to two possible scenarios."

"Which would be?" Don asked, intrigued despite himself.

Charlie checked his notes. "Either the signal is a transmission from another country, and it's relaying information illegally, or it's a signal not from this world."

Don stared at Charlie in shock for several moments before finding his voice. "You mean . . . you mean extraterrestrial?"

Charlie nodded. "That's why NASA wants us to help clear this up. We could be looking at the first sign of alien life." 


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One 

_" . . . the director has said. Still, no one is quite sure as to the announcement that is scheduled during the press conference next Friday. Speculations have been made, but there is no proof to suggest what the topic of the announcement might be. We will bring more to you as this develops. This is-."_

Don switched off the television and glanced down at his brother. Charlie hadn't moved from the coffee table, it seemed, since Alan had called him over two days before. He was now draped over piles of books and papers, fast asleep.

"Still asleep?"

Don looked up at his father's entrance. "Yeah, hasn't budged," he whispered. "He's gonna have a hell of a sore neck when he wakes up, though."

Alan sat down on a chair near his sons. "He can't keep this up, Don. He's going to make himself sick if he doesn't rest and eat."

"I know, Dad, I know," Don replied. "I've talked to him, but he won't listen. He says his project is due by next Monday. Maybe he can hold out till then, then take a break."

Alan sighed wearily. "Maybe he can, but I don't think I will. Do you know what all this is?"

Don looked down at Charlie's papers, debating what he should reveal to his father. "A little," he admitted. "It's pretty important, I can tell you that. And he said he was fairly close to a breakthrough. Just a couple more days."

The phone suddenly rang, making both men jump. Alan quickly snatched the receiver, but it was too late. Charlie's head lifted off of his book, and he blinked tired eyes, confused.

"Hello?" Alan asked, slightly irritated at the caller for disturbing his son's precious sleep.

"Hey," Don said softly, leaning forward and lightly patting his brother's shoulder. "Why don't you go on up to bed? You're obviously tired, and a good night's sleep might help you tomorrow on this."

Charlie shook his head and picked up his pencil. "I'm okay. I have to get back to work on this."

Alan held the phone out to Charlie. "It's for you. It's Larry."

Charlie took the phone, then turned his eyes back to his notebook. "Larry. Hi. What's up?" A pause. "Yeah, I got that, too . . . No, I'm pretty sure it's accurate . . . The latest sequence? Hang on."

He rifled through several of his books before finding a smaller notebook, which he set on top of his notebook. Don and Alan watched as he rattled off a series of numbers neither of them recognized or understood, then hung up.

"Larry's working on this, too?" Don asked.

Charlie nodded, setting the little notebook off to one side. "Yeah, I asked for his help. I needed him to help me back up my data. He got a later start, getting his clearance and all, but he's catching up to me pretty quickly."

"Okay, enough shop talk for tonight," Alan decided. He reached down and lifted as many of Charlie's books as he could. "You, young man, are going to eat something, and then you are off to bed. You can finish this tomorrow."

"Dad, I'm on a schedule!" Charlie protested, gathering the rest of his notes to him.

Alan shifted Charlie's work more securely in his arms. "I will give this back to you tomorrow. Don, take your brother into the kitchen and make him a sandwich. Make sure he eats it, then get him to bed. I'm putting these somewhere safe."

Don his a grin at the look on his brother's face and stood. "C'mon, buddy, you heard him. Let's go."

Charlie huffed. "I'm not a kid. I can take care of myself."

"That remains to be seen," Don replied, reaching down and taking Charlie's arm. "Up you go."

Charlie climbed slowly to his feet, wincing as his muscles unfolded. He had been sitting in the same position for a long time, and his body was letting him know just how uncomfortable it had been. Charlie took a couple steps toward the kitchen, but wavered slightly. One hand flew to his head as he blinked furiously.

Don was at his side in an instant. "Charlie? You okay?"

Charlie's hand dropped, and he straightened. "Fine. Just got a little light headed for a minute there. It's passed."

Don frowned at him. "That's probably because you haven't had anything in your stomach for a while. You can't let yourself go like this, Charlie. It's not healthy."

"I'm fine," Charlie insisted, continuing on to the kitchen.

"Yeah, you look fine," Don shot back, eyeing his brother's gaunt form. Already rail thin, the weeks of little food had taken their toll. Charlie had lost weight, and it was blindingly obvious.

Don grabbed a chair and set it in the kitchen by the counter, then pointed at it. "Sit."

Charlie sank into it obediently, not bothering to comment. He watched as Don rustled through the fridge, pulling out ingredients for a sandwich. As an afterthought, he took out a bottle of water and tossed it to Charlie.

"So, how much more do you have to go?" Don asked as he fixed two sandwiches; one for Charlie, and one for himself.

"I'm not sure," Charlie replied, taking a swig from the bottle. "I've been able to confirm that there is a signal in the satellites, and that it isn't random. I'm going to call my contact tomorrow with an update. As for the source, it depends on a number of variables."

"Such as?" Don prompted. He handed Charlie one sandwich, then hopped onto the counter next to him and took a bite of his own.

Charlie bit into his sandwich, chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed. "First, I need to determine the direction of the signal. It'll be easier to find out where it's destination is. Once I do that, I can probably track down its source. Then I need to work out the nature of the transmission language. That'll help determine whether or not the sender is from Earth or not."

"How can you tell that?" Don asked.

"The complexity of the variables being transmitted," Charlie answered. "An extraterrestrial source might be more unfamiliar with our method of communications. Math is a constant; you can't really change it. But how you relay it to another person is the tell. A person is more comfortable communicating to another because we know how to do it. An extraterrestrial doesn't."

"Do you have any thoughts as to which it might be?" Don asked. He finished his sandwich and rubbed the crumbs off of his hands, then brushed off his jeans.

Charlie shook his head. "Not without working through the numbers. I really can't say one way or the other. It's too soon to develop a theory just yet."

Don watched his brother work through the sandwich, taking note of the slow movements. He knew his brother was exhausted; Charlie would probably fall asleep the minute his head hit his pillow. A small wave of irritation rose in his stomach. He wondered how Charlie could forego his own health in favor of math, but then caught himself. He had done the same in the past when working on particularly trying cases. Alan had been there, calling him on it, and he had been right.

But it was different with Charlie, if for no other reason than he was his little brother. Don knew that the thought was unfair, but it was true. He didn't like the thought of Charlie not taking care of himself. It only cemented Don's beliefs that Charlie was unable to handle real life. So goal-oriented in the world of academia, his own social development and exposure to life had been hindered. How would Charlie really react when presented with a real problem that had nothing to do with math?

Charlie finished his sandwich and stood. Moving the chair aside, he glanced up at Don.

"I don't suppose I could convince you to go get my notes from Dad, huh?" he asked.

"Not a chance," Don replied, hopping down. "Sorry, buddy, but I'm siding with him on this one. Now let's get you upstairs to bed before Dad comes looking for you."

"I'm telling you, I'm fine," Charlie told Don, following his brother up the stairs. "I'm not even tired. I'll probably lay awake all night, thinking about this, and that'll be a whole night's worth of work wasted."

Don only grinned and shook his head.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Charlie stared blankly at his notes for several minutes, as if not comprehending what he was seeing. He looked at his small notebook, then back to his larger one. Running a pencil along the line of numbers on the page, he muttered something to himself.

"What's wrong?"

Charlie jumped at Don's voice. Glaring half-heartedly at his brother, he turned to a fresh page in his notebook and began to scribble some numbers.

"Don't you have an apartment or something to go to?" he asked.

Don flopped down onto the couch and turned on the television. "Tired of me already?"

"Something like that," Charlie responded, his voice distracted.

"Hey, if you remembered to take care of yourself, then I wouldn't have to be here," Don pointed out. "Besides, I like bugging you. You make it so easy."

The doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation. Both brothers didn't move from their spot, expecting the other to answer it. With Alan at his friend's house, it was just the two of them.

The doorbell rang again, and Charlie looked at Don, irritated. "Are you going to get that?"

Don flipped through the channels. "Hey, it's not my house."

"But I'm working here!" Charlie shot back.

The bell rang again. Don turned to Charlie and locked eyes with his little brother. When the bell rang a fourth time, Charlie sighed, irritated, and stood. Don smiled and turned back to the television.

Charlie opened the door, still feeling put off. He looked at the three men in dark business suits standing on his front porch. "Can I help you?"

"We're looking for a Dr. Charles Eppes," the man on the left stated. He had a thick accent that Charlie couldn't place. "Does he live here?"

"I'm Charlie Eppes," Charlie answered, brow furrowing in confusion. His brown eyes studied the man who had spoken. He was easily six feet tall, with thinning blond hair and cold, gray eyes. He and his companions were the same height, all wearing no-nonsense expressions. Charlie watched as they glanced at one another. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Actually, there is." The man with the gray eyes stepped forward and jammed something into Charlie's arm. Charlie let out a cry and tried to pull away, but it was too late. His vision swam, and his legs turned to rubber.

"Hey!"

Don, having heard his brother cry out, had gone to see what was going on. He watched as his little brother sank to the floor, clutching his arm. Two men were beginning to reach for Charlie, while a third with blond hair watched. At Don's call, all three stopped and looked at the agent.

Don cursed himself for not having his weapon, and decided to bluff. "Step away from him, now!"

The men didn't move, their eyes fixed on Don. Don approached slowly, studying his opponents. In the corner of his eye, he saw Charlie lying on the ground, but he couldn't tell if he was conscious.

"I said step away!" Don barked, grabbing the nearest object, which happened to be a poker from the fireplace. He gripped it like a baseball bat and moved closer.

The men backed away several steps, watching Don cautiously. Don risked a quick glance at Charlie to find his eyes closed and his breathing even. Slightly relieved that Charlie was relatively all right, Don turned back to the men.

"All right, who the hell are you?" he demanded. "What did you do to my brother?"

"Your brother is fine," the man with gray eyes stated calmly. "I suggest you put that poker down before someone gets hurt."

"The only one who's going to get hurt is you if you don't back away from my brother," Don replied coldly.

The man reached into his pocket, causing Don to tense. Don watched as the man removed a small gun, which was pointed right at his head.

"Put the poker down now, please," the man stated calmly. "Unless you want me to kill you."

His gun swung down to Charlie. "Or your brother."

Don stared at the gun, nausea swelling in his stomach. Slowly, he lowered the poker. "All right," he said, dropping the poker to the floor with a clatter. "All right. Take it easy."

The man looked at his companions and jerked his head at Charlie. As one, they crouched down and lifted the young mathematician between them and carried him out the door.

"Where are you taking him?" Don demanded, though he didn't really expect an answer.

"You'll know soon enough," the man replied. "You're coming with us."

Don was burning with curiosity, anxious to ask more questions, but he bit his tongue. He wasn't sure what these men wanted with his brother, or with him for that matter, but as long as he was able to go along with Charlie, he would stay quiet.

The man gestured to the door with his gun. Taking the hint, Don moved out into the bright sunshine and down the path to the black sedan that was parked in front of the house. The two men were just loading Charlie into the backseat as Don approached. Don climbed in beside his brother and slung a protective arm around Charlie's shoulders, holding him tightly. He stared out the window, cursing silently when he saw his father's car pull into the driveway. Alan climbed out and looked at the car, a frown on his face. His eyes locked with Don's, and he began to approach.

The man with the gray eyes sat down beside Don and shut the door as the other two climbed into the front. Alan began to run to the car, fear creeping onto his features. Don could only look at his father resignedly, knowing what Alan would be going through.

The sedan started, and pulled away from the curb. The last image Don had of his father was of Alan standing in the road where they had just been sitting, one hand clamped over his mouth in terror. 


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three 

Several cars filled the Eppes' driveway and lined the street, some of them squad cars. Police officers and FBI agents were walking in and out of the house, eyes scanning the premises. A few officers had cameras and were taking pictures, the flash evident even in the bright sunlight. Neighbors around the house were watching from the street, talking to each other and speculating as to why so many people were at the Eppes house.

Agent Terry Lake pulled her car into a vacant spot and stepped out, scanning her surroundings. David Sinclair exited from the passenger side and walked around, joining her as they headed past the crowd and up the path to the house.

They found Alan in the living room, talking to another agent. As soon as he saw Terry and David, he excused himself and walked over to them.

"Thank God you guys are here," he said, his eyes filled with fear and worry. "No one's been able to tell me anything! Please, you have to help me."

"We will, Mr. Eppes, don't worry," Terry assured him as David moved away to talk to another agent. "Can you tell me again what happened?"

Alan ran a hand through his hair, eyes focused inward. "I was just coming back from a friend's house. Art Stanley. I saw a black sedan, a 2003 Chevy parked in front of the house. Don and Charlie were inside with three other men. I tried to get to them, but the car just took off."

Terry felt her stomach flutter with fear for her partner, but she forced herself to remain calm. "What else can you tell me? Can you describe these men?"

Alan shook his head. "I didn't get a great look at them. One was African American, one had brown hair, the other had blond. They weren't thin, probably bulky, about six feet tall. I was looking mostly at Don. The look on his face . . ."

Terry saw the fear rise, and she sought to console the distraught father. "We're going to find them, Mr. Eppes. They're going to be all right."

Alan nodded, though he didn't look as though he believed her. "I couldn't see Charlie too well. He was next to Don, but something was wrong. Don was looking right at me, but Charlie . . . he looked like he was unconscious or something."

Terry nodded, taking the information in. "Has Charlie been working on anything important lately?" She wasn't too sure if the focus of the attack was on the young professor, but she knew that Charlie often consulted for other sensitive matters.

Alan snorted. "Yeah, he's been working nonstop on some big project. He didn't say much about it, but I think he's been telling his brother about it. His work is all still here. It's on the table. Here, see?"

Alan led Terry to the piles of notes and books still on the coffee table. Terry crouched down and glanced through some of the notes, trying to make some sense of it. Her confusion must have shown, because Alan added, "Larry Fleindhart, Charlie's friend, has been working on it, too. He might be able to help."

"I'll give him a call," Terry promised, standing.

Alan looked at her closely. "Do you think it has something to do with my boys being kidnapped?"

Terry's eyes locked with Alan's, wondering just how much to say. "I'm not sure," she finally admitted honestly. "But it's a possibility."

"But Charlie's just a math teacher!" Alan protested. "What could anybody want with him?"

Terry, unfortunately, couldn't give him an answer.

* * *

Don paced restlessly from one end of the room to the other. The men had driven him and Charlie out of Los Angeles, continuing east for a couple hours before finally stopping in a very small town near the Nevada border. They had pulled into the driveway of a very old and obviously abandoned house, and Don had been forced at gunpoint out of the car and inside. Charlie, still under the effects of whatever the gray-eyed man had done to him, had been carried.

The room they had been locked in was in the basement of the house. It was bare, save for a single bed with one thin sheet, and a bare bulb overhead. The door had been padlocked from the outside, trapping the brothers in the small room. Charlie lay still on the bed as Don paced back and forth, his mind racing.

Who were these men? What did they want with him and Charlie? Once they got what they wanted, would they let them go?

A small moan from the bed caused Don to stop his movements. He went to his brother's side, sitting on the bed beside him and brushing his brother's hair back from his forehead.

"Charlie?" Don called softly. "Hey, buddy, can you hear me?"

Charlie opened his eyes, blinking several times to clear his vision. "Don?" he asked. "What's going on? Where are we?"

"Somewhere near Nevada," Don answered. "How do you feel?"

Charlie, with Don's help, sat up. He rubbed his arm and looked around the room. "A little woozy. What happened?"

"Some guys decided to take us for a ride," Don answered. "They haven't told me what they want yet. Did they say anything when you answered the door?"

Charlie frowned, trying to remember. "They asked for me by name."

"That's it?" Don asked.

Charlie nodded. "They asked for me. I told them who I was, and one of them jabbed my arm with something. Made me dizzy. I tried not to, but I passed out."

"Must have been some kind of tranquilizer," Don stated, mostly to himself.

"So what do we do now?" Charlie asked, looking at Don expectantly.

Don returned Charlie's gaze. He realized that Charlie, though scared and confused, trusted him to help him. Don felt a sudden pressure on his shoulders, knowing that he needed to stay calm and behave as though he were in control if he wanted Charlie to get through whatever their captors had in store for them.

Even if he felt scared and confused himself.

The sound of chains on the other side of the door drew the brothers' eyes, and they watched as the man with gray eyes entered, carrying his gun. Don rose from the bed, one hand clamped down protectively on Charlie's shoulder.

"You going to tell us what's going on now?" he asked with a bravado he didn't feel.

The man looked at Don curiously, then turned to Charlie. "Dr. Eppes, come with me please."

Don tightened his grip on his brother's shoulder, stilling Charlie's movements. He could feel Charlie's eyes on him, but he continued to stare at their captor.

"Where Charlie goes, I go," he stated.

The man stared back at Don. "Very well," he agreed. "Both of you. Don't try anything, or I will put a bullet in your brother."

Neither Charlie nor Don were entirely sure who the man was referring to, but both decided to be on their best behavior. Charlie slid off of the bed and followed Don out the door, willing to take Don's lead.

The man guided them through the basement to another room. This room was about the size of their cell, but contained a table and chairs. The walls were lined with chalkboards, which held several equations on them. Charlie wanted to look closely at them, but the man gestured to the chairs with his gun. Don pushed Charlie into one chair, then sat down beside him.

Their captor took a seat across the table from them as another man entered. This man was tall and lanky, with dark hair and eyes hidden behind a pair of thick glasses. He looked at the brothers, then turned to their captor.

"Which one is he, Sarro?" he asked.

The man with the gray eyes gestured to Charlie. "The little one."

The man with glasses looked at Charlie, studying him carefully. Charlie shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, glancing at Don.

"Dr. Eppes," the man finally said. "An honor to meet you. I'm Dr. Emmanuel Reed."

He held out his hand, which Charlie only stared at. Reed waited for a few moments, then withdrew his hand.

"Suspicious, understandable," Reed commented. His accent matched that of Sarro's, but wasn't as thick. "I'm sure you're wondering why we've brought you here."

"The thought has crossed our minds," Don spoke up.

Reed looked at him. "Who are you?"

"He's my brother, Don," Charlie answered quickly.

Reed looked at Sarro, who said, "We weren't expecting anyone else to be there. We don't need any witnesses."

Reed nodded, then shrugged. Sitting down beside Charlie, he leaned forward. Charlie leaned back slightly, closer to Don, uncomfortable with Reed's close proximity.

"We have some mutual friends, Dr. Eppes," Reed began. "I understand you're helping out with a little problem with the satellites?"

"What makes you say that?" Charlie asked nervously.

Reed smiled. "Come now, Dr. Eppes, there's no longer a need for secrecy. I know you were asked to help, and I also know that you're fairly close to finishing those equations for NASA. The reason you're here is that I need to know what you know."

"I don't understand," Charlie stated.

Don did. "The signal," he said suddenly. "It wasn't from outer space after all. You people put it there. Why?"

Reed glanced at Don, then turned back to Charlie. "Your brother is pretty bright. Yes, we put it there. Actually, I'm the man responsible. It took a lot of complex and delicate strings of numbers to hide our transmissions in our own enemy's satellites. It was quite brilliant, really."

"But . . . why?" Charlie asked.

"How better to relay our information to our men than in the one way you would never suspect?" Reed countered. "Your government is so busy monitoring our standard methods for communicating that they would never think to look in their own systems. By the time they realize what we've been up to, it'll be too late."

"Wh-What are you planning to do?" Charlie stammered, afraid of the answer.

Reed waggled a finger at Charlie. "Now, now, Dr. Eppes, I can't go giving out all my country's secrets, now can I? Tell me; what have you told NASA?"

"I-I haven't told them anything," Charlie answered. "I was still working on the problem when you grabbed me."

"You wouldn't be lying to me, would you?" Reed asked.

Sarro stood and aimed his weapon first at Charlie, then at Don. Charlie's breath quickened, his heart jumping in his chest.

"N-No, I swear," he said, clearly agitated. "Really, I haven't shared anything! I'm telling you the truth!"

"Good," Reed said. "Then we'll just be needing one more thing from you."

"Wh-What's that?" Charlie asked, fidgeting in his chair.

"Now that our transmissions have been discovered, we need to find a better way of concealing them," Reed stated. "You're going to help me develop a new encryption that we can use that will be undetectable by your government."

Charlie began to shake his head. "What? N-No, I can't . . ."

Reed stood, his face suddenly grave. "I strongly suggest you rethink your answer, Dr. Eppes," he said. "We would certainly hate to have anything happen to you. Or your brother."

Sarro rounded the table and grabbed Don by the arm. Hauling Don to his feet, he punched Don solidly in the stomach. Charlie cried out in protest as Don doubled over, wincing and clutching his stomach. Sarro struck Don across the face with his gun, sending Don crashing to the floor.

Reed grabbed Charlie's shoulders and turned Charlie away from his brother. "We will give you one hour to rest, and then you'll begin your work. I'm looking forward to working with you, Dr. Eppes."

Charlie watched the men depart, locking the door behind them. As soon as they had gone, Charlie leaped up and ran to his brother's side, helping Don sit up straight.

"Don, are you okay?" he asked frantically.

"I've had worse," Don assured him, still winded.

Charlie looked unconvinced. "Don, what do I do? They want me to break national security! I can't do that, but I can't let them hurt you."

Don met Charlie's eyes. "Charlie, you listen to me. Don't worry about me, all right? I can take care of myself. You just do what you can to keep yourself safe. If that means you have to help these sons of bitches, then fine. I'll find a way to get us out of this. You just worry about yourself."

"Don," Charlie began to protest.

"I mean it, Charlie," Don insisted. "Don't go putting yourself into unnecessary danger. All right?"

Charlie sighed, looking up at the numbers on the board. Through the fear for his brother's safety, a reassuring stream of numbers filtered through his mind, slowly sprouting into the beginnings of an idea.

"I know that look," Don commented. "What is it?"

Charlie looked at him. "I think I know a way to get us both out of here."

"Don't keep me in suspense," Don said. "Let's have it."

Charlie rocked back on his heels. "If I'm supposed to develop the string of numbers that conceals the transmissions, then I can leave a specific trail behind the stream. It would be picked up by anyone paying attention."

"What kind of trail?" Don asked.

"A separate sequence of numbers, detailing where we are and what's going on," Charlie answered. "It wouldn't be that easy to pick up unless you were looking."

"How do you know anyone's looking for it?" Don wanted to know.

"NASA's watching the satellite transmissions closely right now because of what they've been detecting," Charlie pointed out. "Someone will pick it up, decrypt our message, and come help us."

Don stared at Charlie. "That sounds complicated. And dangerous. Can you really do that?"

Charlie smiled faintly.


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four 

Larry Fleindhart stared at the men and women cluttering the Eppes lawn as he made his way to the door. The call from Don's partner had come as a surprise, but he had agreed to come right down to Charles' home when he heard that his former student had been kidnapped, along with his brother.

More men and women crowded the home, making it seem much smaller than Larry knew it to be. He tried to ask where he could find Agent Lake, but no one paid much notice to the stammering, twitchy math professor. Sighing wearily, Larry moved into the living room.

He saw Alan Eppes sitting on the couch, holding his head. In front of him was a large pile of books and notes that Larry knew had to be Charles'. Carefully, he made his way across the room and stopped across the table from Alan.

"Mr. Eppes, hello," Larry said. "I heard what happened. Is there something I can do to help?"

"Actually, there is." Terry Lake appeared beside Larry as Alan lifted his head. "Can you tell us what you and Charlie have been working on?"

Larry shifted uncomfortably. "We had a consulting project to do with a few other people in our field. I really can't say; it's pretty sensitive stuff."

"You can't say?" Alan echoed. "My boys have been kidnapped, are at the hands of God knows what, and it might be over some stupid school project that you can't tell us about?"

His voice had begun to rise towards the end. Terry placed a calming hand on Alan's arm, then turned to Larry.

"Please," she told him. "Whatever you can tell us will be a big help."

Larry looked at Alan's pleading eyes and sighed. "It's not a school project, exactly. Charles asked me to help him with a consulting gig for NASA. I had to go through red tape to get clearance to work on it."

"NASA?" Alan repeated. "Why the hell is Charlie consulting for NASA?"

"They wanted him to confirm some discrepancy in some of their satellite transmissions," Larry answered. He picked up Charlie's notebook. "It looks as though Charles nearly figured it out. I think he was going back over his data to be sure."

"Does this have to do with that press conference NASA called for next week?" Terry asked.

Larry nodded, still looking at Charlie's notes. "Yeah, they wanted to announce their findings. They just need us to confirm them."

"And what findings would those be?" Alan asked.

"Either illegal transmissions being made through the use of our satellites, or a signal from extraterrestrial life," Larry answered.

Terry and Alan stared at Larry, speechless for a moment. Finally, Terry said, "Either one of those reasons would be enough to kidnap Charlie. To see what he knows, and maybe what he told NASA."

"But why take Don too?" Alan asked.

Terry shook her head. "Maybe he interrupted them. He might have tried to help Charlie, and ended up getting taken along as insurance."

"Now that we know, what do we do now?" Alan wanted to know.

Terry looked at Larry. "Dr. Fleindhart, using Charlie's notes, could you finish what he started and determine the source of the satellite transmissions?"

Larry nodded. "Charles is a lot further along than I was. I should have an answer for you relatively soon."

Terry nodded. "Good. In the meantime, we'll start scouting around. Someone might know something. The minute you have the answer, call me. It'll help narrow the focus of our search."

She turned to Alan. "We're going to find them, Mr. Eppes. I promise."

* * *

Don hid a yawn behind his fist and looked at his watch. It was now going on eleven o'clock at night, and Charlie had been working on the number sequence with Reed nonstop for the past eight hours. Sarro was sitting in one corner of the room, gun ready in case Don decided to try anything. He needn't have worried; Don wasn't about to do anything to put his brother in any danger unless he was certain of victory.

The boards in the room had been completely filled with Charlie's familiar scrawl, detailing some complex equations that Don couldn't even begin to understand. Reed seemed to be able to follow along well enough, but it was clear to the agent that Charlie's intelligence and gift for math left Reed in the dust.

As Charlie worked on the equations, Don had settled into his chair and had studied their surroundings. Left with little else to do, he had surreptitiously examined the entire room for any possible weaknesses that they could use to their advantage. All Don had been able to decide in the last eight hours was that Reed was a pompous ass who thought he was better at math than he really was, and that Sarro had dull reflexes but sharp eyes.

Don's eyes fell on his brother. He had given Charlie as much information as he could on their location before their captors had returned, half-wondering if Charlie's plan would work. Charlie had seemed convinced that it would, so Don had given him the benefit of the doubt.

Now, Charlie's shoulders were tight with tension. His hand shook as it spit out number after number. Don knew that Charlie needed to take a break, or at least quit for the night. The strain of their situation coupled with the monumental task before him was going to be enough to deal with without Charlie making himself sick on top of it. Don decided to intervene.

"Hey, you guys planning on working through the night, or are we going to be allowed to sleep sometime?" he asked.

Charlie didn't react to the sound of Don's voice. He continued to write number after number on the board before him. Reed, however, stopped what he was doing and glanced at his watch.

"I guess time really does fly when you are enjoying yourself," he commented. "Yes, I think we've done enough for one day. We will start again tomorrow morning, after a fresh night's sleep. Good night."

Reed left, and another man entered to help Sarro herd their prisoners back to their cell. Standing, Don crossed over to Charlie and gently relieved him of his chalk. Charlie stared at the board for a moment, then blinked up at Don in confusion.

"Time for bed, buddy," Don said softly. "Come on."

Charlie didn't respond. Nodding, he allowed Don to steer him out of the room and back to their cell, their captors in tow with guns carefully aimed at them.

A slight gust of cool air met them as they opened the door, and Charlie shivered. Don ushered him inside, not bothering to turn around as Sarro shut the door behind them and locked it securely from the outside. The two brothers wearily walked over to the bed, still not speaking.

Don pushed Charlie down onto the bed, then reclined beside his brother. He let out a breath as he drew the blanket up over them, resigning himself to the fact that they would be stuck in the hands of their captors for awhile.

"Don?"

Don looked down at Charlie, who was hugging himself tightly beneath the thin blanket. "Yeah, buddy?"

"Do you think anyone's looking for us now?" Charlie asked softly.

Don wrapped an arm around Charlie's shoulder and pulled him closer. "I know it, buddy. I saw Dad as we were driving away from the house. I'll bet he's called everyone from the police to God, looking for us."

Charlie rested his head against Don's shoulder. "He must be going crazy, worrying about us."

Don sighed. "Yeah, probably."

There was silence, then Charlie's voice rose through the stillness once more. "Don?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we'll get out of this okay?"

Don tightened his hold around his brother. "We're going to get out of this just fine, Charlie. Dad's probably got a ton of people out looking for us, and we've got a plan to escape. I think we'll get out of here in no time."

Silence ensued once more. Don felt Charlie relax ever so slightly beside him, and he believed his brother was finally starting to fall asleep. He felt himself grow more tired, his eyes more heavy, and was nearly asleep himself when his brother called his name one more time.

"Don?"

It was soft, barely audible, but Don heard it all the same. "Yeah, buddy?"

There was no reply, and Don wondered if he had imagined his brother's voice after all. Finally, Charlie spoke again.

"I'm scared."

Don was suddenly struck by a memory from the past, when Charlie would crawl into his bed after a nightmare. His brown eyes would be wide and filled with some unmentionable fear that only Don seemed to be able to chase away, and Don had done just that. Now, years later, it seemed as if those monsters were coming back to haunt Charlie once more.

Don squeezed Charlie's shoulder and lightly rubbed his back in soothing circles, the same way he had done when they were younger. "I know, buddy, I know. Go to sleep. I'll be here to watch out for you."

He felt Charlie's head grow heavier on his shoulder. Before long, Charlie's breathing had evened out, and he slipped into the calming waves of slumber. Closing his eyes, Don soon followed his brother into oblivion.


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five 

Alan sat at his dining room table, an untouched plate of food before him. His appetite was something of a memory; despite his insistences to his sons that they eat even if they weren't hungry, Alan couldn't bring himself to follow his own advice. It had been three days since he had seen that car take off with both of his boys inside, and it seemed as though the FBI was no closer to finding them than they had been when Alan had first called them.

Sleep, too, was elusive. Every time Alan closed his eyes, horrible images of either Charlie or Don, or both of them, appeared before him. Images of them hurt, bleeding, scared . . . it was too much for Alan to bear.

He knew he was being irrational. Don was thirty-seven for crying out loud, and a federal agent. He was more than capable of looking after himself, particularly in this type of situation.

Charlie, though, wasn't even thirty. He was still so young . . . but he had his big brother looking after him. Alan had to believe that Don was watching over Charlie, keeping them both safe until they could come home.

Both grown men, both with jobs . . . but in Alan's mind, in his heart, they were still the tiny babies he had held in his arms all those years ago. Nothing would change that.

Abandoning his plate, Alan stood and headed into the living room. Several agents, including Terry and David, had set up camp in the event a ransom demand would be made. So far, there had been no calls. Alan hated the fact that there had been no calls- any ransom made, he would pay it. Money meant nothing. Not without his boys.

Larry was also there, busy on the couch with one of Charlie's notebooks. In the interest of organization, the agents and Larry had moved Charlie's books. The very thought made Alan's skin crawl. He hadn't wanted to disturb anything his sons had left behind; it was as if a part of them were still with him, there in the house. He had gone through a similar feeling when his wife had died, and recognized it for what it was, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Hey, Mr. Eppes, did you eat?" Terry asked softly, looking up from the files in front of her.

Alan waved her question to the side. "Any new developments?"

The look on her face told Alan all he needed to know. He nodded, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but with each passing hour that was spent with his sons in danger, it was quickly slipping away.

"Wait," Larry said suddenly.

All eyes suddenly turned to the professor expectantly. Larry passed his pencil over the notebook, then looked up. "I think I have something."

"What?" David demanded.

"Charles actually figured it out just before he was taken, but he started to go back over his work just to be sure," Larry told them. "He's managed to prove that the signal isn't extraterrestrial. It's a hidden communications relay from an unspecified source in our country to someone on the other side of the world."

"You mean some kind of international espionage is going on here?" Terry asked.

Larry nodded. "There's no doubt about it. Someone hiding out in our country is leaking valuable defense information to our enemies."

"We need to get the CIA in on this, along with NASA," David stated, pulling out a cell phone. "Someone should be able to pinpoint the source of the transmissions."

"Can you decrypt the message?" Terry asked.

Larry nodded again. "Actually, now that we can isolate the transmission, that part should be easy. It's actually relayed through old Morse code."

"What, nothing more complicated?" another agent Alan didn't know asked.

Larry only shrugged. "I think managing to cover up their communiqués in our own satellites is complicated enough. It really was a stroke of luck that anyone caught the discrepancy, really. You know, I would tell NASA to watch the satellite transmissions very closely. If they know that we know about this, then they may try to change their methods of communicating. We should get everything we can from them before it stops."

David nodded, already on the phone with someone from NASA.

Alan sought out Terry's eyes. "All right, so you figured out the source of the satellite transmissions. What about my sons?"

Terry held Alan's gaze evenly. "Now that we know more about what's going on, we should be able to trace the source of these transmissions. It may very well lead us to where Don and Charlie are being held."

Alan nodded. For the first time in three days, he felt a tiny flutter of hope in his heart that his sons would be found safely.

* * *

Charlie rubbed his weary eyes and stepped back from the board. He felt as though he had been working on the same equation for ages without making any headway, though he knew that to be inaccurate. They were making some progress. It was just hard to see it. He knew that their captors were already using his equations in their illicit transmissions; he just hoped someone would find the little trail he had built into the encryptions.

A hand fell onto his shoulder and squeezed it. Charlie looked up at Don, blinking owlishly through the dim yellow light in the workroom.

"Take a couple minutes and rest," Don ordered, steering Charlie to a chair. "You've been on your feet since early this morning."

Charlie let his brother push him into a chair without protest. The truth was, he was exhausted. He had lost track of how long they had been held here, so caught up was he in his math. Don had to remind him to stop and rest every once in awhile. Charlie didn't know what he would do if Don hadn't been brought along with him. It seemed like Don was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment.

Several packages of chips and cookies littered the table. The unappetizing snack foods were all their captors seemed to want to feed them, and Charlie was already getting sick of it. He scowled as Don snagged a bag of animal crackers, opened it, and pushed it into Charlie's hands.

"Don, I'm sick of cookies," he said.

"You have to eat," Don replied firmly. At Charlie's reluctance, he continued, "Look, I'll make you a deal. You eat when I say you eat, and I'll take you to dinner anywhere in L.A. you want to go. My treat."

Charlie eyed him suspiciously. "You're serious."

"Honest," Don answered, grabbing himself a bag of Doritos.

Charlie watched him eat the chips, then finally reached into his bag. "When we get out of here, I'm not touching another cookie or bag of potato chips again."

Don only grinned. "We'll see."

The door to the workroom opened, and Reed walked in, trailed by Sarro and the two men who had accompanied him to the Eppes home. Don and Charlie immediately tensed; whatever it was they had come down there to say, it evidently wasn't good.

Sarro seized Charlie's arm and hauled him to his feet, forcing him over to Reed. Don instantly jumped to his feet and lunged at Sarro, but the two other men grabbed him and held him immobile. Don watched, fearful, as Sarro stopped in front of Reed, Charlie's arm still in his grasp.

"We have been putting our new transmissions through your government's satellites once more with some success," Reed stated. "You are a very gifted mathematician, Dr. Eppes, and your new encryption sequence was by far more advanced than any I've seen."

"Um . . . thanks," Charlie replied, his heart pounding in his chest.

"But imagine my surprise when a friend of mine pointed out a little something extra built into your encryptions," Reed went on.

Don's heart sank at Reed's words. They'd been found out.

Charlie's face was a blank mask. "E-Extra? What do you mean? I did everything you told me to."

Reed smiled thinly. "Yes, you did, and then some, didn't you? You created a trail in our code that could easily be picked up by anyone with half a brain. Well, Dr. Eppes, your little message for help was rather ingenious, but I'm afraid we can't allow your attempt to go unpunished."

Charlie felt bile rise in the back of his throat. "No, wait, you don't understand!"

Reed merely waved a hand dismissively and left the room. The door hadn't even closed when Sarro's grip became painfully tight. Charlie barely had time to react when he felt Sarro suddenly fling him full force into the nearest wall. He hit the chalkboard with a loud crash, and he sank to the ground, a stab of pain shooting through his body.

Don thrashed wildly, trying to free himself and go to his brother's aid. "You leave my brother alone, you son of a bitch! I swear to God, if you touch him again, I will rip your fucking head right off your body! Do you hear me! _Don't you touch him_!"

Sarro leaned over Charlie and, drawing back a fist, let fly with several fierce punches to the young man's face. Charlie lifted his arms to protect himself, deflecting the staggering blows on his forearms.

Suddenly, the assault stopped. Charlie felt a hand clamp down over his newly forming bruises on his arm, and he was lifted to his feet. Sarro pulled Charlie away from the board and threw him into a chair, then walked over to Don. Don paused in his tirade, dark eyes burning with hatred for Sarro. He knew what was coming next, and knew that he couldn't prevent it, but as long as Sarro focused on him, he wouldn't touch Charlie.

Sarro drew a fist back and punched Don firmly in the face. Don's head snapped back with the blow, and he sagged in his captors' grips. He felt more blows rain down on his face and body, but he didn't let out a single cry.

"No!" Charlie cried, staggering to his feet. "Stop, please! He didn't do anything! It was me! Leave him alone!"

He grabbed at Sarro's hand and held on. Sarro tried to shake Charlie off, but Charlie's grip was too strong to be brushed aside. The taller man turned from Don, a vicious glint in his cold, gray eyes. With a tremendous force, he shoved Charlie against the wall. Charlie's head rang with the impact, and he released Sarro's arm and slid to the ground, stunned.

Sarro looked down at Charlie, then nodded at his companions. The two men released Don, who sank to his knees, breathing heavily. Without a single word spoken, the three men exited the room, locking it behind them.

Don wiped his mouth, looking at the blood on his hand. Wiping it on his jeans, he crawled across the floor to where his brother sat, shaking and gasping for breath. He could see bruises starting to form on his little brother's face, but thankfully, the damage looked superficial.

Sitting beside Charlie, he wrapped his arms around his brother and tugged him into a tight hug. Charlie went to him, wrapping his arms around Don in return. The two sat like that for a long time, willing to seek comfort in their company rather than words.

Finally, Don spoke. "Charlie . . . you all right?"

He heard Charlie sniff and nod against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Donnie."

The old moniker from their childhood caused Don to tense. Charlie hadn't called him Donnie since they were kids, and only used the name when he was seriously upset. "Sorry? Why?"

"This is all my fault," Charlie said. "It was my consulting case that got us kidnapped, and it was my stupid message that got you beat up."

"Yeah, well, I hate to break it to you, Charlie, but this isn't just about you," Don told him pointedly. "I got myself into this mess. Sure, they came for you, but if I had minded my own business, I wouldn't be here, so quit thinking you're responsible for my kidnapping. I did that one on my own."

Charlie sniffed again. "Okay. And the message?"

Don grinned. "Sorry, you're on your own there."

He felt Charlie let out a huff of laughter, and his grin widened. "You okay?"

Charlie nodded again. "Thanks, Don."

Don felt his tension slip away. "Hey, that's what big brothers are for."

Charlie withdrew from Don and looked up. "What do you think they'll do now? They probably won't let me work on the encryption anymore. Not after that."

Don had already suspected as much. He knew what was most likely to happen, what years of training told him usually followed in situations like this. He and Charlie had outlived their usefulness, and unless they could attribute some other value to them remaining alive, they probably wouldn't last another day.

Don knew all this, but found that he simply didn't have the heart to share this information with his little brother. Instead, he went with his old standby.

"I guess we wait for the cavalry, little brother," he stated. "If they were watching, like you said, they should already be on their way."

Charlie nodded and settled back against the wall to wait with his brother.


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six 

"We got 'em!"

Alan jumped to his feet and ran into the living room upon hearing David's exclamation. He saw the other agents also up, grabbing their things and getting ready to leave. He hurried over to David and grabbed his arms. "What did you say?"

David grinned. "Dr. Fleindhart's advice to keep an eye on the transmissions worked. They suddenly disappeared a couple days ago, but a trail attached to a new, more undetectable transmission appeared shortly afterward. It was a message from Charlie."

Alan felt his heart skip in his chest. "A message? From Charlie? What kind of message?"

"Roughly, it said that he and Don were being held in a house in a town several hours due east from L.A.," David answered. "Directions were provided. We're on our way now."

"I'm coming with you," Alan stated.

David hesitated. "I don't think that's a good idea, sir."

Alan fixed him with a stern glare. "I don't give a damn what you think, young man. Those are my sons being held hostage by madmen, and I'm going with you to get them. You can argue all you want, but I'm coming with you."

David glanced helplessly at Terry, who met his gaze with wide eyes. Finally, she nodded slightly.

"All right, sir," David relented. "You can ride with me."

"Good," Alan replied. "And in the meantime, maybe you can explain to me just how my son knows how to encrypt messages on government satellites."

* * *

The door to the workroom opened again, and Reed and Sarro appeared. Don felt Charlie tense up beside him, and he squeezed his brother's arm to reassure him.

"Get up," Reed ordered, his directive augmented by the gestures with Sarro's gun.

Charlie and Don climbed to their feet, wary of what was to happen next. Reed didn't elaborate; he merely instructed the brothers to follow him. Don gestured for Charlie to go first, then fell into step behind him. Sarro took the rear, his gun aimed directly at Don's back.

Reed led them through the basement, but instead of returning to their cell, he led them to a set of stairs on the other side of the basement. A cold feeling rose in Don's stomach, which he tried to push back down. He knew what was going to happen next. He just had to figure out a way to stop it.

The small entourage climbed the winding staircases, exiting into a brightly lit hall with sunlight streaming through large windows. Charlie squinted at the sudden brightness, but continued after Reed as he led them through the halls and deeper into the house. They passed through a very old and obviously unused kitchen, out a door, and into the backyard.

What little grass remained on the property was brown and withered with age. Dirt mounds were what was left of what had once been a wide yard. In the distance, a storage shed that looked almost brand new stood on the back of the property. There didn't look to be another soul for miles; no one nearby that could help the brothers.

Charlie began to fidget nervously beside Don. His wide, brown eyes filled with fear at some terrible thought that suddenly occurred to him. Don wished he could ease the look in Charlie's eyes, but he knew the horrible truth was written plainly on his own face.

"Don . . ." Charlie breathed, gulping.

Don sought out Charlie's hand and squeezed tightly. "I know, buddy. I know."

Charlie closed his eyes tightly, then opened them up and looked at Reed. "Look, I was the one y-you wanted in the first place. I w-was the one to develop those numbers, a-and I was the one who-who sent that message. M-My brother didn't do anything. Let him go."

Don gave a start and looked at Charlie, stunned. Charlie didn't meet his gaze. He merely continued to hold Reed's eyes while he waited for an answer.

Reed met Charlie's eyes coldly. "On your knees."

Charlie felt his breath quicken. "Listen, he didn't-."

Reed struck Charlie sharply across the face, causing the younger man to stumble. Don caught him and glared at Reed.

"You didn't have to do that!" he snapped.

"On your knees," Reed said again, pulling out a gun of his own.

Together, the brothers lowered to their knees facing Reed. Charlie's eyes were clenched shut as he fought to slow his rapid breaths. Don looked at him, waiting patiently for him to regain some control.

"Hey," he whispered as Reed moved around to join Sarro behind them.

Charlie opened his eyes and turned his head toward Don.

Don gave his brother a small smile. After a moment, Charlie returned it with a weak one of his own.

Shoes scuffed in the dirt behind them.

"I love you, Charlie," Don said softly.

The slight pressure of a gun made itself known against the back of Charlie's head.

"I-I love you, too, Don," Charlie replied, tears swimming in his eyes.

Cold steel pressed against the back of Don's neck.

Don kept his eyes locked with Charlie, wanting to at least convey how much his brother meant to him in their last moments of life together. He could at least give Charlie that much.

A hammer cocked somewhere behind them.

A tear slipped down Charlie's cheek, but he kept his eyes on Don.

The sounds of the shots were deafening.


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven 

"Can't you go any faster?" Alan demanded from the backseat.

David rolled his eyes imperceptibly, and Terry hid a grin. They were already going nearly one hundred miles per hour, with a state trooper escort, but it wasn't fast enough for Alan. Now that his sons were within his grasp, he wanted nothing more than to move heaven and earth to see them.

"Hey, we're getting near the town," Terry said suddenly. "Let's ease up." She lifted her radio to her mouth. "Cut the sirens. I don't want these guys knowing we're here before we're ready."

Almost immediately, her instructions were carried out. The cars slowed to the speed limit, and the cruisers quieted down. By the time they entered the small town's city limits, they drew no unwanted looks.

David guided the car through the town, following directions that Terry gave him from the information that the NASA representative had given them. Within minutes, they were at the house they believed Charlie had indicated in his message. As soon as David turned the car off, he and Terry were out and by the trunk, pulling out Kevlar vests.

Alan stepped out, but Terry stopped him.

"Sir, you need to wait here," she said. "I know Don and Charlie might be in there, but we have no idea what to expect. You need to wait in the car until we give the all clear."

Alan frowned, but he knew that Terry had a point. Grudgingly, he nodded and returned to the car to wait.

David raised an eyebrow at her. Terry simply shrugged and began calling orders through he radio to the other agents as they began to swarm the building. As soon as everyone was in place, David and Terry removed their weapons and moved around the side of the house.

The sight that met them froze them in their tracks.

Don and Charlie were on their knees, looking at one another, while two men stood behind them, aiming their guns and preparing to shoot them.

Terry lifted her radio. "Everyone move! Now! Go, go, go!"

She and David pointed their weapons at the kidnappers, called out to them, and fired.

* * *

Both brothers jerked violently at the sound of the shots. Charlie remained on his knees, his eyes glassy with shock at not being dead. Don, reacting with years of training, dove at his brother, knocking them both to the ground. He wrapped his arms around Charlie and covered his brother with his own body, shielding him from the gunfire that was erupting over their heads.

The fight seemed to last an eternity, but when it was over, an eerie silence descended over the yard. Don and Charlie didn't dare move for fear that it wasn't really over.

"Don! Charlie!"

Don lifted his head, squinting as his partner ran up to them. He felt Charlie shift beneath him, but remained still until he knew the threat had passed.

Terry and David crouched beside them, worry plain on their faces. "Are you guys okay? Do you need medical attention?"

Don finally rose up onto his knees, pulling Charlie up with him. "That might not be a bad idea. I want Charlie checked out, top to bottom."

"And Don," Charlie chimed in.

"You're both going to see a medic," Terry promised.

"What took you guys so long?" Don asked, rising to his feet. He glanced back, taking note of the still forms of Reed and Sarro.

"Well, you took the math genius with you," David pointed out. "We had to make do with regular mathematicians."

"You guys found my message?" Charlie asked, accepting Don's help to his feet.

"NASA did, actually," Terry replied. "But it was your friend Larry that helped them locate it so quickly."

Charlie grinned. "Really? I'll be sure to thank him for that."

"We've got the scene secured," Terry stated. "You guys need to go around front. Your dad came with us, and he's pretty anxious to see you."

Don groaned. "You let him come with you?"

"Hey, you try arguing with the man sometime," David replied defensively.

"No, thanks," Charlie muttered. Don only laughed and ruffled Charlie's hair. They thanked David and Terry, then began to make their way around the front of the house to where David had parked his car.

They had just reached the street when a door slammed. Alan was out of the car, a look of utter relief on his face. He ran over to his sons and pulled them into a crushing embrace.

"Charlie, Don, thank God!" he said, holding his sons tightly. "You guys had me scared half to death! Are you two all right?"

"We're fine, Dad," Don replied, trying to convey a sense of calm. It was difficult; after their ordeal, it felt good to hand control over to someone else.

Alan pulled his sons over to David's car and, opening the two doors on the passenger side, he forcefully pushed them down and got a good look at them. He gently turned Charlie's chin one way, then the other, then did the same to Don.

"What did they do to you?" Alan demanded. "You two are going straight to a hospital, then home to bed. I'm not going to hear any arguments. And you, young man," he added, wagging a finger in Charlie's direction. "You're going to explain to me some of this consulting stuff you do. I don't want to be taken by surprise like this again, you hear me?"

Charlie and Don merely exchanged grins.


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue 

_" . . . there you have it. A hidden signal within our own satellite system, which was used to relay sensitive information to an outside source for illicit purposes. Such an act could have proved disastrous to homeland security, had it not been for the vigilance of several notable men and women working for NASA, the CIA, and several outside sources. We now take you to some of the highlights from the press conference given just this afternoon-."_

Don turned the television off and sighed. "Old news. Wonder how long it'll last."

"Probably until the next major scandal or something," Charlie replied from a nearby chair. He had his laptop out, and was currently playing a game of Minesweeper.

Don tipped his head back to look at his brother. "Hey, Charlie, I've been meaning to talk to you."

Charlie didn't look up from his screen. "Oh yeah? What about? You got a new case or something?"

"No, nothing like that." Don sat up on the couch and faced his younger brother. "It's about what you said to Reed. Just before . . . you know."

Charlie froze ever so imperceptibly, but Don caught it plain as day. "Yeah?"

Don reached out and gently pushed the screen of Charlie's laptop down. "You tried to bargain with Reed to save my life."

Charlie continued to avoid Don's eyes. "Yeah?"

Don rolled his eyes. "Charlie! Is that all you're going to say? You were willing to let me go free in exchange for your life! I want to talk about it!"

"What's there to talk about?" Charlie asked. "You're my brother, and despite what you said in the workroom, it was really me they wanted. You were just caught up in all of it. I didn't want you to die for something that was my doing. And even if it was you they wanted . . . I couldn't stand the thought of you dying."

Don stared at his brother, surprise once more claiming him. "Charlie . . ."

Charlie looked at him suddenly. "It's the same with you, right? I mean, when all the shooting started, you protected me. How's that different from me wanting to protect you?"

Don worked his jaw several times before words made it past his lips. "That's different . . . I mean, you . . . I'm older than you, and I'm trained for this sort of thing, so that . . ."

Charlie raised his eyebrows. "Not your usual articulate self, huh? Are you getting senile in your old age?"

Don's eyebrows lifted. "Old age?" he echoed.

Charlie set his computer down on the coffee table. "Yeah, I mean, you're getting pretty close to the big 4-0, right? I don't think you're thinking straight right now."

"I'll give you old man!" Don jumped up, but Charlie had been ready for it. The younger man dashed around the coffee table and circle around the couch, with Don hot on his heels. He ran past his father, who had just come into the room to see what the commotion was about.

Alan watched Don race after Charlie through the house, shaking his head. A slight smile graced his lips as he followed after his sons. It seemed that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

THE END


End file.
